


ersatz

by Luminaryquitecontrary



Category: 7th Dragon (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Dehumanizing Language, Disordered Eating, Exploring several artificial-life characters of mine, Gen, Human Experimentation, I'll add more tags as this goes on, Pre-Canon, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24253804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luminaryquitecontrary/pseuds/Luminaryquitecontrary
Summary: You don't ask for better, because you don't know better.You don't tell anyone, because nobody would believe you.Why would they? These are the ones building heroes for humanity.
Relationships: Rune-Knight/Agent (7th Dragon)
Kudos: 7





	1. atychiphobia

**Author's Note:**

> To want nothing at all, to want what is best for others- and never yourself.

You don’t recall how old you were. Day in and day out was a test of endurance, there was no time for thought- your blood would become tainted and you would writhe, convulsing on the cold-hard floor as something,  _ something _ invaded your body. 

If you screamed, you would be beaten- you were meant to be a tool, and thus you would be quiet.

Occasionally one of the humans staring down at you with disgust would talk about God- asking forgiveness for bringing something as wretched as you into the world. You didn’t know God, but you also asked for forgiveness silently- for existing.

The daily experiments continued, your blood was muddy, if it spilled it didn’t appear bright red to you anymore, just a dull gray.

Days blended together, the world was full of static, your head was full of static too- there was no time for thought, every day required the entirety of your being to be focused on enduring- surviving.

The people who brought you food would change, most of them threw it on the floor and expected you to eat it like that- you did, you were not picky. Some looked at you with pity and set it down before leaving wordlessly, already tired of your presence without having even heard your cracked voice utter an apology for existing.

One man would give you more food than the others, he was the only person who you spoke with outside of pained screams and begging for forgiveness- he was kind, as humans went.

You asked about God- you were told that some people believed God made everything.

But God did not make you, you thought to yourself staring down at the generous amount of food you had been given- almost as much as you ate in a week- you were a mistake, no wonder nobody wanted you.

After that meeting, you picked up a habit of asking God for forgiveness every day- and every night. When you bled, you apologized to God for tainting the air with your foul blood, when you cried you apologized for daring to curse others with the inhuman sounds you made.

As far as you had known, you were the only one living like this- a cheap screw that broke easily, a defective piece of equipment.

What a worthless existence. 

There was another boy in the facility, you saw him occasionally. He looked the same as you, empty, cold eyes. Like a dead fish- as one of the humans said, as you looked stupidly at the wall which had become scorched by faulty equipment.

But the humans spoke highly of him- your mind filtered out his name, but you knew who they were talking about when they praised the new Dragon Hunter who contained thousands of dragons inside of him.

When you looked at him, there was no hatred, or spite, or even jealousy- just regret. Regret that you wasted the time of all the humans who had worked so hard to make you what you were- only for you to turn into a beast, trembling and foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal.

You really were just an animal- a waste of life and space, and for the first time in your life- you decided to do one thing. 

You stopped eating.

Nobody noticed or cared. It became easier to black out during the daily rituals- you were certain that eventually you would stop thinking altogether, trembling on the floor only to stop forever.

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that day came soon. 

One day, the man who told you about God came, with his normal amount of food. Food that was wasted on you, food that you knew well you didn’t deserve.

You stared, with your rotting fish eyes, like a corpse that was long past due.

After silence, you were questioned, and eventually ordered to eat. Of course- even as you were, you would never refuse a direct order, and you shoveled food in your mouth- holding it in as tears welled up and your jaw threatened to fall to the floor.

You apologized, even if you couldn’t speak. You asked God and everyone else for forgiveness for still being such a parasite even when you did your best to disappear.

You made yourself small, burying your face in your ugly vein-patterned legs and hid your worthless tears, because that would only cause problems for the humans who wasted their time on you.

The world went dark.

You slept without nightmares, and woke up in a bright white room. The light hurt your eyes, and you closed them tightly.

You were certain you had finally died, and thus, you didn’t apologize.

After some time, your eyes opened again, unfamiliar people staring at you, and tubes connected to your arms...just like when you were alive.

They talked about you, and they talked to you, but your thoughts were muddied by the realization that you were in fact, still alive, as tears welled up in your eyes.

You sat up, and apologized. And were told to lie back down and rest.

You slept, and slept, and slept…

And eventually woke up to faintly familiar faces looking at you.

They were smiling.

You were smiling too, wide eyes and all.


	2. scoptophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They'll take and they'll take because now you're a spectacle.  
> You don't mean anything. You never will.  
> You're a pretty face and a strong blow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for implied sexual abuse in this chapter, most of the tagged warnings still apply.

You know the way they look at you. Like some sort of doll.

Your skin crawls as their eyes scan over you- you want to scream knowing that the only reason that you even made it to this place was because somebody had found “value” in offering you assistance.

Because you were a hero. Because you were pretty.

Because they could tell their friends what you sounded, felt, and smelled like once you stepped out of their car.

You lied about your lack of memories, you lied about your name, but it all bled through- and they would find you time and time again.

“The super cute super sexy hero that never ages!” You saw your picture on forums.

“Wow I want her to step on me… I’d do anything just to hear her call me worthless.”

Your face was a permanent scowl, did they think you were cruel?

You were scared, you were an adult but you wanted to scream and run and hide and do whatever the hell it took to avoid their piercing gazes.

Your body was made to kill dragons, and yet. That was never enough.

You wouldn’t be given the privilege of  _ only _ being a tool, this time you were a doll, a pretty face, a warm body.

Your blood goes cold, you feel your face scrunch up. And so you run like hell to get away from anyone who might see the unstoppable hero cry.

From piss-quality public store bathrooms to alleyways, you’d go anywhere to escape the constant stares.

Because you couldn’t trust anyone, because nobody wanted you unless they could use you.

Your body retains the ugly scars from tubes inserted into your veins pumping chemicals and blood that would not mix with yours. The skin on your stomach was hard, covered in scales.

Your shoulder blades were always bruised, and there were scars around your wrists from when you became so delirious from a combination of pain and disgust that you tried to drain every bit of blood from your tainted body.

It was revolting, you felt like you had begun rotting from inside out- the only symptoms visible were the dead look in your eyes and the reptilian features that burned themselves onto your otherwise “flawless” skin.

You slumped against the wall, sinking to the floor of a small bathroom, it was disgusting, but you would face the consequences later- and scrub your skin raw the next chance you had to shower.

Your shoulders sank, your muscles loosened, and you buried your head in your hands. You were never good at keeping quiet- surely somebody would find you and you would die all over again or your image would be found everywhere- on every message board and every social media site imaginable.

You don’t look, but you know somebody is close to you, their eyes staring through you. And you wanted to run and run and run and run and run and run and run and run and-

She speaks, and you peer at her through your fingers.

You remember her from the hellish place you were born, and the group of you that saved the world. She’s smiling, her face is so gentle…

She offers you her hand, but you refuse, knowing that you would cry if you felt somebody against your skin, and she nods, putting her hands in her lap, and muttering an apology.

You got separated, but never again.

Because she loves you, and would do anything to make you smile.

And your lips curl upwards, not out of pity, or obligation- but because she means everything to you, and you love her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think whoever wrote the Code: Otaku and Code: Lucier quests should have their fingers removed.


	3. hypengiaphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her tears are the only thing that can break you anymore.  
> Pain was an obstacle to seeing her happy.  
> And so were as many dragons as the world could throw at you.

Day after and day after your body rotted away. 

Just a little kid clinging onto your best friend, that’s what you were, and yet once again you found yourself repeatedly threatened- greatness would come for you and if you could not rise up to meet it you would be disposed of like all faulty tools would be.

You told yourself that as long as you could protect her then everything would be okay, when she cried you were the one to dry her tears- and when she bled you would tear whatever you could off of your body to stop the bleeding.

It’s not that you were worthless- but she was so much more deserving of an idealized life- one far away from test tubes, syringes, and dragons. Not a perfect life maybe, but one away from this hell.

You would take all the pain you could for her. You would shield her, and if beatings turned to beratings you would cover her ears so that she wouldn’t have to listen to their poison.

But there were times when you couldn’t protect her, when she was dragged away and came back sniffling, so terrified that even you couldn’t calm her down.

Your skin was covered in bulging veins and dry hardened patches that resembled the scales of beings you hated without exception. Your resemblance to them only fueled that hatred.

If greatness came with dragons, you would kill every dragon to escape the responsibility that had been placed on your tiny shoulders. If greatness came without dragons then you would shut yourself away after they all had died and fade into obscurity- being forgotten by everyone and everything.

Your arms were covered in spots- if you squirmed too much they’d inject the daily batch of what felt like acid coursing through your veins directly into your neck, and you’d spend the day screaming and crying on the floor.

Occasionally you would sleep for days on end, waking up with more hardened skin and more splotches of darkness on your skin- and even worse, your dear friend would cry and cry until you opened your eyes.

You don’t know when you became separated from her. It was after dragons cleared from the skies for the first time in what felt like years- but you didn’t have time to be relieved. You ran like hell. Away from the responsibility of a “hero” and the people waiting to get their hands on a weapon like you.

You ran and ran and after countless years of running you met her again, crying in a poorly lit and grime-covered bathroom.

She looked at you, and you smiled.

You loved her, and when she was ready, you would give her your hand and lead her somewhere so far away that you two would never be hurt again.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'll continue with this, but I wanted to explore some of my 7th Dragon ocs since it seemed fun and I like them a lot.


End file.
